Daria's Stash
by Smileyfax
Summary: Everybody's crazy about Daria's stash. And not in a drug slang way, either .


"Girls, I just want you to know your mother and I realize it's not easy moving to a whole new town..." Jake looked in the rear-view mirror at his eldest daughter sitting in the backseat, and winced. "Especially for you, Daria, right?"

"Hah," Daria scoffed. "I find it easy to make friends. I can't help it if they don't make friends with...all of me."

A nervous chuckle escaped Jake's throat. "I'm just saying you don't make friends as easily as...uh, some people," he went on, half-ignoring what Daria had said.

Daria just rolled her eyes at the obvious comparison to her younger sister (sitting in the seat in front of her, doing her best to pretend Daria didn't exist) and sat back, ignoring her father the rest of the way to the new school. It was a short wait, and Quinn hopped out of the car almost before the wheels had stopped moving. Daria decided to give her a good moment or two before actually ruining her life.

"Bye, dad," she said after the wait, leaning forward and kissing her father on the cheek.

"Eugh!" he squealed, rubbing his cheek vigorously before controlling himself and driving off to work.

The students Quinn was deep in conversation with stopped almost as if flash-frozen and stared at the newcomer.

"What?" Daria asked with a faux-innocent voice. "Haven't you ever seen a woman with a handlebar moustache before?" She raised one hand up and stroked the facial hair with pride.

Quinn, who had been desperately trying to bond with somebody before her sister revealed herself, squealed in anger. "Like, why does she have..." Sandi shuddered.

"Is that your sister?" Stacy added. "She was in the same car as you, wasn't she? Why does she have a moustache?"

Quinn was unable to answer, as she gazed at Daria, seething with enough hate to fuel a million suns. Blood began to drip from where her fingernails pierced the palms of her clenched fists.

"That's just too bad," Sandi lamented. "So, do you, like, want to join the Fashion Club?"

Quinn turned to the two other girls, suddenly beaming with joy and forgetting her anger. "Really? I'd love to! But..." She glanced over at her sister, who was letting the more curious students pull on her moustache to prove it was real.

"Oh, well. We don't let freaks into our club," Sandi sniffed. "I mean, it's not like YOU can grow a moustache, right, Quinn?"

"Uh..." Quinn suddenly realized that Sandi didn't know her horrible secret: she was actually JEALOUS of Daria's unique feature. "No! Of course not!" She laughed it off, but apprehension still nested in the pit of her stomach.

XXXX

"Miss Morgendorffer, do you know why I pulled you from orientation early?" Ms. Li asked from across the desk in her office.

"You want to know how I maintain such a fabulous moustache?"

"What? No! Miss Morgendorffer, facial hair is prohibited on school grounds for both students and teachers."

Daria tented her fingers together contemplatively. "I don't remember reading that in the school's code of conduct."

The principal smirked and withdrew a copy of the code of conduct from one of her drawers. She flipped through it until she found the relevant page, then triumphantly put a finger down on the line and began reciting. "It is expected that male students and teachers remain clean-shaven at all times during the school year. Violations will result in detentions, suspensions, and ultimately, a choice between daily compulsory shaving performed by the school nurse or expulsion."

Daria serenely stared at Ms. Li as the elder woman awaited a response. Finally, she gave a small shrug. "I don't see how that applies to me."

"You don't see how -"

"Ms. Li, do I look like a male student to you?" As Ms. Li struggled with how to answer that, Daria pressed on. "I'd like to add that if you go down the 'insult the hell out of me' path, you might end up trying to press me into taking a gynecological exam to 'prove my womanhood', something my principal at Highland High did when I first grew my moustache. My mother..." Daria reached into a pocket and handed Ms. Li her mother's business card, featuring her number at the law firm she was hired at. "...convinced the board that it would be cheaper to fire that man than fight and lose a legal battle with me." She tugged on her moustache playfully, but the look in her eyes was serious.

Ms. Li gulped. "Well...very well, Miss Morgendorffer. Thank you for bringing this oversight in our school's code of conduct to me. I'll make sure that, come next year, it will be corrected."

"Will you now," Daria said, flashing a brief, dismissive smile to the woman. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Miss Morgendorffer. Now, please report to Dr. Manson's office for your mandatory psychological test."

After Daria left, Ms. Li peeked out her office to make sure nobody else anticipated seeing her, then closed the door and locked it. She returned to her desk and withdrew a small compact mirror that she normally used for touching up her makeup during the day. She looked intently at her face, then - experimentally - she placed one outstretched finger above her lip, trying to gauge how she would look with a similar appearance. 


End file.
